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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499229">kill me, heal me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/pseuds/fluffysfics'>fluffysfics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Choking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Scratching, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, followed by healthier coping mechanisms, mild depictions of violence, post-timeless children, talking about feelings, this starts off dark but I promise it gets sweeter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:26:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/pseuds/fluffysfics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master needs to hurt. </p><p>Unwisely, the Doctor decides to try and indulge him. They both have a lot of feelings to work through.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>kill me, heal me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hurt me.”</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor looked up from the pile of scraps (radio? Maybe it had once been a radio) she was tinkering with. When had the Master moved to stand in front of her? Last she’d seen him, he’d been curled up on the library sofa with a book, content as a cat in front of the crackling fire she’d set up. A nice evening for both of them. Or so she’d thought. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I said, <em>hurt me</em>.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I heard you.” She sat forward, scooping up her scrap pile and carefully setting it on the floor next to her armchair. “Just wasn’t expecting it. It was that sort of ‘what’, not an ‘oh, I didn’t hear you’ sort of ‘what’.” Some small part of her brain piped up and told her that she was rambling. The Doctor thought that rambling was pretty reasonable, given the situation. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Then- hurry up and <em>do</em> it.” The Master scowled, and suddenly he was in her face, his hands gripping the arms of her chair as he leaned down over her. She raised her eyebrows, both of them, as if to say ‘really?’, and he growled, straightening back up and having the grace to look slightly sheepish for his outburst. He couldn’t hurt her even if he wanted to. She’d removed the Cyberium for him, and in the process, it had activated some kind of last-ditch defence mechanism that seemed to have removed the Master’s ability to physically harm anyone. The Doctor should have kept the thing, studied it until she figured out a way to persuade it to remove the block. Instead, she’d thrown it into a sun whilst the Master was still unconscious. She didn’t trust him, as much as she wanted to, so this was...convenient. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Tell me why first.” Not an outright no. Just a demand for justification, even though she thought she already knew the answer. They’d danced around this for weeks already- she’d let the Master press her up against the TARDIS console, let him <em>almost</em> kiss her before pulling the navigation lever and sending him flying as they spun wildly into the time vortex. She’d let him wrap his hands around her wrists, guide her in the proper technique for chopping vegetables when he’d wanted to cook and the TARDIS wouldn’t give him a knife, and hadn’t said a word when his fingertips lingered on her pulse point and pressed down hard enough to feel when her heartsbeat sped up. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I need it,” the Master said. Not a reason, so the Doctor stayed silent. “I <em>need</em> it,” he said again, more insistently. “Need to <em>feel</em> something, Doctor, please. It’s been weeks. I’m <em>bored</em>. I know you want me. I want <em>you</em>. So fuck me, and make it <em>hurt</em>. Surely you can bear to—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Enough.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor leaned back in her chair, and did her best to pretend like his words hadn’t just knocked the breath out of her and sent a heat prickling through her that she hadn’t really felt yet this regeneration. There had been hints of it before- the aforementioned moments on board the TARDIS, a brief, shameful shiver of it in the Adelaide Gallery when he’d knelt opposite her- but nothing like this. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Take your jacket off, undo the top few buttons of your shirt, and get on your knees.” The Doctor kept her eyes closed for a moment, half-expecting the Master to stalk off in disgust. But she heard the rustle of fabric, and when she looked at him, he was fumbling with his shirt buttons and his jacket had been tossed across the room. She bit her lip. She had <em>power</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There was a clear hesitation in the Master’s stance, but the Doctor held his gaze sternly, and slowly, he sank down to his knees. She thought she might actually combust, or just melt into the chair. Was this how he’d felt when she’d knelt for him? No- she’d been forced, she’d been so annoyed with him at the time, and this...this was voluntary. He didn’t have to do this, but here he was. Kneeling in front of her. For her. No threats, no witnesses, and he was hers. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Pretty,” she breathed, and saw <em>something</em> flash across the Master’s face at that. He was struggling to keep his emotions under control even more than usual. So much so that he was shaking. Well, she couldn’t have that. “Is there something you want, Koschei?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Hurt me,” he begged, and the Doctor didn’t have the slightest problem with immediately labelling it as <em>begging</em> this time. There was no other word for the desperation in his voice. She leaned down, reached out a hand towards his face, and he flinched like he was expecting to be slapped. Instead, she rested it on his cheek. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’ll hurt you,” she promised. “At my own pace. Thank me for that.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Thank you,” he said immediately, the words spilling from the Master’s lips like he couldn’t stop them if he tried. The Doctor felt another heady rush of power, and she slid her hand from his cheek up to his hair, grabbed a fistful, and <em>pulled</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pain washed over the Master’s face, and then his eyes pressed shut, a grin tearing across his features. The Doctor pulled harder; the grin turned from blissfully happy to borderline <em>manic</em>. Oh, that was disconcerting. Okay. No. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She loosened her grip, and the Master’s eyes snapped open again. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You stopped.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Don’t- what’s that smile for?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I was enjoying it. Doctor, <em>please</em>-“</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fine. Alright.” A second’s pause, a breath to get herself under control. “I like it when you beg.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Anything for you. Anything.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She pushed forward in her chair, and wrapped both hands around the Master’s throat. Not squeezing, just...resting them there. “Anything? Beg harder, then.” The Doctor almost surprised herself with the cold authority in her tone. Key word, <em>almost</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please hurt me.” The Master drew in a breath, and the Doctor could feel the air in his throat. “Please. I want it, I want you to hurt me, please...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Shameless, aren’t you?” Slowly, steadily, the Doctor started to tighten her hands. “Well? No one told you to <em>stop</em>.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“<em>Please</em>...” He struggled to get the word out, voice sounding rough around the edges. “Please, hurt me, <em>hurt me</em>, I <em>need</em> it, I need <em>you</em> to hurt me, please, it’s what I des—“ </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master seemed to choke on the rest of the word, but the Doctor had stopped listening maybe half a sentence ago. Instead, she was entranced by the way his eyes twitched and fluttered, the way she could see the blood rushing to his face, the way she was holding his breath in her hands and <em>crushing</em> it until he couldn’t even speak. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He just stared at her, wide eyes locked on hers, mouth open for air but unable to get any more. The Doctor held his gaze, kept a slow count in her head until she knew his respiratory bypass would be just about to activate, and then she let him go. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master gasped for air, coughing, hands flying to his throat. Good. Taking advantage of his distraction, the Doctor planted her boot in the middle of his chest and shoved him so hard he ended up sprawled halfway across the floor, a couple feet away from the fireplace. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She stood up, stalking across the room to stand over him. He tried to push himself upright, and she pressed her shoe into his shoulder and shoved him back down. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stay there.” The Doctor waited until she got a nod of agreement before releasing him. The way the Master was looking at her, his eyes wide and shining, was downright intoxicating. The firelight flickered off of his face, illuminating a need unlike anything she’d seen on him before. Not when he’d been Missy, not when he’d been desperately avoiding death, not in any of his incarnations before that. Not even when they’d both been young, and so much closer, so much more trusting. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She stepped over him, straddling his waist and sitting down to keep his legs pinned to the floor. Slowly, carefully, the Doctor worked on undoing each of his shirt buttons. She didn’t say a word, didn’t make a move to hurt him, and yet she heard him draw in a sharp breath every time her fingertips grazed against his chest. He looked beautiful, she thought but did not say. The Master wanted to hurt; she could comfort him when she was done tearing him apart. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His shirt undone, she pulled at it, and the Master obligingly moved his arms enough to allow her to get it off. He had a nice body this time around; softer than his last self, softer eyes, softer lines. The Doctor lifted her hands, hesitant, and then placed one over each of his hearts. She didn’t quite know why she was surprised to hear the familiar one-two-three-four rhythm pounding inside his chest, but something about it suddenly made all of this feel so much more <em>real</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You really will lie here and let me hurt you, won’t you?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor closed her eyes, heard the Master let out a soft noise and realised she’d curled her hands so that her nails were digging into his chest. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Doctor, please. Please, please, <em>Theta</em>-“</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Without thinking, the Doctor raked her nails <em>hard</em> down the Master’s chest and stomach, leaving raised red lines in their wake. He gasped, twisting away from her touch and then arching up towards it. She lifted her hands, and did it again, scratching along those same lines until she saw blood bead up along a couple of them. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Some distant voice told her to stop, set some boundaries. The rest of her was drunk on power. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor moved forward, pressing her knee against the hollow of the Master’s throat. Push down hard enough like that, and she could snap his neck, end this regeneration for good. She put a little more weight behind the knee, heard him draw in a shuddering breath. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You won’t fight back, no matter what I do.” It wasn’t a question this time, but the Master shook his head anyway. He was smiling again. Not quite manic, but close enough. She should just tell him to stop that. Instead, the Doctor grabbed his hair, pulled his head back as hard as she could, and slapped him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master laughed. <em>Laughed</em>. She scowled, tightening her grip on his hair. It didn’t stop him. Suddenly <em>angry</em>, the Doctor pulled back, one hand squeezing his throat and the other digging her nails into his chest hard enough to draw blood. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stop that. Stop. Stop laughing. <em>Now</em>.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He stopped. The Doctor didn’t relinquish her grip on him, anger still burning deep in her chest. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You asked me to hurt you.” She jerked on his hair, heard him gasp, saw tears spring to his eyes. “You asked for this. Don’t laugh. Don’t you dare.” Another rough tug on his hair. She dragged her nails down his chest, felt skin tear underneath them, saw those tears leak out of the Master’s eyes. She should feel bad. She just felt angry. “You need me. You need this. Say it. <em>Say it</em>.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I need this.” The Master’s voice was rough, shaky, she should stop now. She should let him go, let him up. She tugged on his hair again, and he whined. “I need you.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That was what she’d wanted to hear, that was- he was still talking, murmuring like he barely had control over what he was saying. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“-need you, need this, <em>deserve</em> this, I’m filth, so much less than you, hurt me, please, <em>hurt me</em>-“</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The anger drained out of the Doctor like someone had just deleted the floor and left her to fall. She pulled her hands away from him, scrambling to get back to her feet. The delirious mumbling stopped. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What’s wrong?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor lifted her hand, fingers stained with his blood, and turned her palm to face him like that answered everything. To her, it did. She’d lost control. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I shouldn’t have done this,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. You can’t even fight back or push me away, and that’s because of <em>me</em>-“ </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I asked for it. Still asking for it.” The Master was still lying there, deep scratches on his chest and bruises just starting to form around his neck where she’d choked him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re not- <em>less</em> than me.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master stared at her for a moment, and then started laughing again. It was genuine laughter, and it was scarier than any weapon he could have pointed at her. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“We both know that’s not true, love. You said it yourself in the Matrix chamber. You’re so much more than me. I could never be what you are. Just some bad copy. Filth. Useless.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What I said was wrong.” The Doctor took a step back, then another, finding her armchair and resting against it. She needed the support. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“No, it wasn’t.” The Master closed his eyes. He seemed to be at peace with this concept, and that hurt her worse than any amount of arguing. She seriously considered leaving the room. Washing the blood off of her hands, and holing herself up with an engineering project for the next 48 hours or so. Running away from her problems was this self’s speciality. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>But he was more than just her problem. He was under her protection, and he was her friend.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master was the one thing she’d never been all that good at running from, when it came down to it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“It <em>was</em> wrong,” she insisted, walking back across the room and sitting cross-legged next to the Master’s head. The Doctor shrugged her coat off, the warmth of the fireplace hot against the side of her face. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Don’t be sweet with me, Theta. Two minutes ago, you were on top of me, scratching me up like some savage animal. Because compared to you, I might as well just be prey.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re brilliant.” The Doctor ignored the ache in her hearts at his words. Focus on him, not on her troubles. “I’d be nothing without you. You’re a shining star, Master, you burn brighter than anyone. You always have.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stop it.” His eyes were still closed, but there was a frown creasing his forehead. “Don’t give me that speech, you always do that same fucking speech.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Did she? The Doctor thought back- pleading with Missy in a graveyard, reminiscing with the Master while her tenth self had been tied to a chair. “...Sorry.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Don’t be. You should be <em>happy</em>, Doctor, I’ve accepted this. I’m not arguing with you. Isn’t that what you want?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“No, I’m sorry. You deserve better. I can’t- not good with words, this time around. Let me-“ She pressed her fingertips to the Master’s temple. He tensed, just for a second, and then she felt his mental walls lower and grant her access. “Let me show you what you mean to me.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor could feel a prickle of disbelief at that, and she faltered. How badly had the Master been hurt, to believe that their thousands of years of history together could suddenly mean nothing to her? She didn’t <em>remember</em> her lives before him. Maybe she had a life so much longer than the one she knew, stretching back aeons into the past. But none of that meant anything. She, the <em>Doctor</em>, was formed by what she knew. And that was the life that had started on Gallifrey, where she’d met a quiet, sweet boy named Koschei Oakdown and fallen for him so hard that she’d never quite stopped falling since. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That was it. That was what she needed. She gathered up that sentiment, pressing it into the Master’s mind, along with a brief history of every time she’d seen him emerge from somewhere, miraculously alive, and her hearts had <em>leapt</em> even though they really shouldn’t have. Every time she’d longed for them to travel together, every time she’d sat alone and wished she could talk to him, every plea and hesitation and shared smile and every moment that reminded her that she was in awe of him, enamoured by him, completely and irrevocably in love with him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>When she dragged herself out of their mindscape to focus on the Master’s face again, his eyes were still closed. The Doctor let her fingers slip off his temple, combing them gently through the hair she’d pulled on so harshly earlier. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He opened his eyes, and they were shining with tears. She’d seen him smile a few times in the last couple of weeks, real smiles instead of the manic grins she’d been treated to before when they’d fought. But the Doctor had never seen him look this <em>soft</em>. This fragile. Like the slightest thing might shatter him, but equally, like he might <em>listen</em> to her now. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You believe me now.” It didn’t have to be a question. She wasn’t a good enough telepath to fake the emotions she’d shown him, and he knew that. “There’s no one else like you, Koschei. No one even half as important.” The Doctor would never admit that to anyone else, especially not her human friends. It was a fact she’d spent a long time being ashamed of, but the Master needed to know it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I believe you, but I- I can’t- <em>why</em>?” He closed his eyes again, those tears spilling out suddenly and dripping down onto the floor. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You know why.” The Doctor had shown him everything she could; he could put the pieces together. She brushed a stray tear away from his face, wiping it off on her trousers. It came away with a smear of blood, and she winced at the reminder of what she’d done. “Can you sit up for me? Please?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master slowly pushed himself upright, turning to face her. The firelight caught on his bruised throat, his shining eyes. He was still beautiful, and he needed to know. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re an idiot, Koschei, but I think I’m a bigger idiot. You don’t need me to hurt you, I’ve done that enough.” The Doctor rubbed her hands together, and golden energy sparkled at her fingertips. She saw the Master draw in a breath to protest, and she raised a hand to silence him. “If I have unlimited regenerations, I might as well <em>use</em> them.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She lifted her hands to his chest first, fingers tracing the lines her nails had carved, watching scratches and bloody red lines disappear beneath her touch. The Master was completely still; his eyes had fluttered shut at some point, and he didn’t seem too keen on opening them again. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Next, the Doctor’s hands went to his throat, wrapping around it again, matching the patterns of bruises she’d left and resting there until they’d faded back into the soft brown of the rest of his skin. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Much better,” she murmured. “You’re beautiful. Like a proper statue with this light on you. Think I like it better when you’re moving, though.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, golden light sparking off the strands before she let it fade from her fingertips. The Master opened his eyes. She leaned in, tilted her head, and he closed the gap between them like it had never been there in the first place. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>How long had it been since she’d kissed anyone? Too long, considering how fond her eleventh self had been of it. This was no ordinary kiss, though. This felt like home, like coming back to something she’d been missing. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>For maybe twenty seconds, it was gentle, sweet. Then the Master let out a soft noise against her lips, and the Doctor’s arms flew up to press him tight against her, kiss rapidly transitioning into something hungrier. She wasn’t going to hurt him now, she couldn’t bear to. But she was sure as hell going to <em>wreck</em> him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He let her take control of the kiss, and she looped her fingers into his hair, ran her hand down his back, touched everything she could find to touch. The Master was <em>warm</em>, and he still felt familiar, despite the centuries that had passed since they’d last done this. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor broke away to kiss his neck, lips tracing over every spot where her fingers had pressed. She lingered over his jugular, felt him shiver at even the slightest graze of teeth against it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wait. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m not- I’m not taking advantage, am I?” She pulled away, concern suddenly filling her eyes. “You can’t push me away if I do anything wrong, I’m sorry-“</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I can still tell you to stop.” The Master met her gaze, taking this seriously, and the Doctor let herself relax. “I tr- I know you’ll listen to me.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I will,” she promised. “You have my full attention.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>That, of all things, made the Master shudder, and the Doctor saw a flicker of a smile on his lips. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re so predictable,” she said fondly, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He didn’t seem inclined to disagree, if the way he tipped his head back for <em>more</em> was an indicator of his mood. She indulged him, scattering hot kisses along his neck, down to the sensitive dip in his skin just above his collarbones. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pulling back, the Doctor pressed her hands to his chest, over his hearts again. They were beating faster even than before, a frenetic drumbeat to match the one that used to beat inside his head. She pushed the Master down, onto his back, hovering over him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re beautiful,” she said again. He turned his head to one side, closing his eyes like he couldn’t bear to open them and see the look on her face. The Doctor allowed it, bent her head to trail her lips down his chest, across his stomach, to his hips. Here, she allowed herself to leave one mark, sucking a small bruise into the soft skin near his hipbone. Out of sight to anyone but him. One of the Master’s hands flew to her hair, and she wondered if he’d pull it if he could. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She lifted her head, scanning his face. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I want you,” came the immediate answer. “I want you all to myself, forever, and I want to be the only thing you ever want this badly.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I can’t promise you forever, we both know that never turns out well.” The Doctor leaned up, catching his lips again, closing her eyes for a few slow moments. “But right now, I’m all yours. And you’re all mine.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’ll take that,” the Master murmured. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Good. My Koschei, my brilliant, beautiful, dazzling Koschei.” The compliments rolled off her tongue without her even having to think about them. She was full of praise for the Master, even if after all these years, after everything he’d done, she often felt like she <em>shouldn’t</em> be. “I think I want to fuck you, now.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor wasn’t sure whether it was the praise or that last line that had done it, but the Master was staring at her wide-eyed, pupils blown and breaths coming out short and sharp. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Do it,” he demanded, rough and eager. Then- “<em>Please</em>.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She couldn’t say no to that face, that pleading. Removing her shirt seemed like too much bother for now- she just shrugged off her suspenders, wriggling her trousers off and tossing them aside. Underwear was next, thrown to one side just as carelessly. Carefulness was for people without the most beautiful creature in the universe begging to be fucked by them. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Lift your hips up,” she ordered, and the Master obeyed instantly. There was that rush of power again- less <em>manic</em> this time, less overwhelming. The Doctor pulled his trousers and underwear off in one go, kicking them away. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Pretty,” she mused, taking a moment to study the previously unrevealed parts of his anatomy that she had access to now. The Doctor curled a hand around his arousal, giving it a few slow strokes, and watched the Master melt and sink into her touch. For a minute, she was fascinated by that, by the soft noises she could drag out of him with a squeeze at the right time or the brush of a thumb over just the right spot. But watching this was only making her more aware of the growing ache between her own legs, and she saw no reason to deny herself any longer. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m gonna fuck you now,” she said, with a grin that fell somewhere between wicked and really, desperately aroused. The Doctor positioned herself over him, bracing her hands on his chest, and slowly sunk down onto his dick. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Of all the new feelings she’d experienced this regeneration, <em>this</em> was one she thought she might be able to get used to. Closing her eyes for a moment, the Doctor made a small, experimental movement with her hips, and was rewarded by a soft noise from the Master. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You stay still,” she demanded. Then she started to move, pushing herself up and down. It took a minute to figure out what was <em>good</em>, but when she found the right angle, fuck, it was <em>really</em> good. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>And then, just to add to the sensations, there was the Master underneath her. His hands had come to rest on her thighs, and he kept catching his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing his eyes shut only to snap them open again like he couldn’t bear to miss a second of what she was doing. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Good. I like that. Keep looking at me, you’re so pretty...” The Doctor’s voice came out a little less firm than she’d wanted, but it got the point across well enough. She could look down at the Master, watch those big brown eyes try so desperately to stay focused on hers. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Do you know what you look like right now?” The Doctor had a point she wanted to make, but it got somewhat lost when she shifted her angle slightly and pleasure rippled through her anew, and she tipped her head back with a moan. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Right. Point. “I should- mmh- show you. I’m gonna show you.” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She closed her eyes, sending the Master an image of himself staring up at her, all flushed and needy and <em>pretty </em>as she fucked him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fuck,” she heard him say, and watched him bring a hand up to curl in his own hair. “Fuck, <em>Theta</em>...” </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor didn’t know what it was about the sound of her own name today, but suddenly she couldn’t control herself anymore. She wrapped a hand around the Master’s arm, pulling him upright and holding him tight against her. She couldn’t bear to not be kissing him for one more second, couldn’t bear not to feel his warmth against her. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I missed you so much,” she breathed against his lips, and the Master almost whimpered in return. He was so soft, so pliable, so desperately in need of her. The Doctor knew, deep down, that she needed him just as badly. She was nothing without her balancing force, and he was nothing without his. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She buried her face in the Master’s shoulder, riding him faster, harder. One hand dug into his hip, holding him in place. She’d never felt anything quite like this. This body, these feelings, the ache in her hearts and the desperate, desperate pleasure that kept building like a fire inside of her. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I need-“ Right now, the Doctor didn’t know what she needed. Something, <em>something</em>, something that would push her over the edge. She felt the Master’s hands grip onto her waist, warm and firm, and immediately dragged him into a messy, desperate, <em>perfect</em> kiss. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Moments later, she let out a moan against his lips, shaking as her climax washed over her. She felt herself tense up, clinging even tighter onto the Master, riding out the sparkling waves of sensation as they burned every last trace of a thought out of her head, left her gasping for breath. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Just when she thought it was over, the Master suddenly tipped his head back, the look on his face one of pure bliss for a few brief moments. He shivered in her arms, her name on his lips, then relaxed, breathing hard. Beautiful, the Doctor thought, mind feeling slightly foggy. Just beautiful. <em>Perfect</em>. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>For a minute, she allowed herself the chance to relax. To feel nothing except <em>him</em>, and the hazy glow of endorphins. But this position wasn’t very sustainable, and all too soon she had to shift, extricate herself from the tangle of limbs they’d ended up in. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor grabbed her coat, balling it up on the floor and using it as a pillow. She pulled the Master in close to her, letting him rest his head against her chest. She allowed herself another minute, then two, three more, before finally speaking up. Long silences were hard. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“...That was good. Really good. How long’s it been since the last time we- actually, never mind. Not relevant. I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you were. Are. And how smart, and lovely, and pretty, and clever.” Like a dam that been broken, the words she’d been keeping in gushed out all at once. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I still don’t know how you can compliment me like that,” the Master said, tilting his head up to look at her. He still looked soft, hints of tiredness and a far deeper sadness swimming in his eyes. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Doctor knew they’d need to talk so much more, soon. She’d been avoiding doing that, and her avoidance had only led to the Master spiralling into self-hatred and her losing control of herself and hurting him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“...That block in your head. I’ve been...selfish.” Oh, that stung to admit out loud. She pulled the Master in a little closer against her. “I’m going to get to work on removing it. I promise. I...know you aren’t going to hurt me.” Just saying that felt like a leap of faith. Millennia of fighting, arguing, betrayals, and now the Doctor had to throw herself at his mercy and let him prove that he wasn’t going to stab her in the back. Power, it was always about power with the two of them, wasn’t it?</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Master turned his head, pressing his lips against her collarbone. “I might hurt you again. But I don’t want to, now. And the need to <em>be</em> hurt...it isn’t as strong. Is that good enough?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That’s more than I’d have dared to ask for,” the Doctor admitted softly. There was still so much to work through, but she wanted this. He wanted this, if he was telling the truth, and he didn’t look capable of lying to her at the moment. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>They needed each other. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>And sometimes, that was enough. </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this took me AGES to write and get to a place where I liked it, so I hope you enjoyed it, kudos and comments are very much appreciated as always &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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